The Road to Ragae
by Charlemaine
Summary: A stubborn obnoxious boy and an Archangel with an attitude, brought together at the request of a blind man.
1. A Decent Pessah

A brief background, for those who are interested:

The story of Tobias and the angel appears only in the Old Testament in the Deuterocanonical Book of Tobit, where a man named Azariah (or Azarias, in some versions) comes in the guise of a travelling companion for blind Tobit's son, Tobias, who has to make a journey to Ragae to collect a deposit his father had made there. It tells of how Tobias, with the help of Azariah – who is really a certain angel in disguise – finds a cure for his father's blindness. And no, I did not make up the part about the bird droppings.

**The Road to Ragae**

**1: A Decent _Pessah _**

"But you're telling me," said young Tobias incredulously, "that my father's blindness was caused by – "

"Yes." The doctor nodded gravely. "Unless a miracle cure is found within the next two or three weeks, he will go to his grave blind."

Tobit groaned on his thin, piss-stained mattress. "I wish you wouldn't talk about me as if I was already there."

Hannah, Tobias' mother, beckoned them quietly to the living room. "But doctor," she said, "we are a humble family. I am already working morning to night to support my husband and son – and all in all we are barely making ends meet. How am I to spare enough for medicine when we have to scrape the crumbs from the plates to fill our stomachs?"

"Medicine? No, good woman, no medicine made by man will cure your husband. He might live like any man to the last of his elderly years; then again, he might not. Tobit, it seems to me, has begun to lose the will to live." He clasped her careworn hands heavily. "All you can do," he said, looking to Tobias as well, "is to be good and kind to him and make his final days as easy as possible."

That night as Tobias came to wish his father good night, the man stopped his son. "I have a small surprise for your mother," he said. "But it is a surprise that lies some distance from here, and which you must help me retrieve."

Intrigued, the nineteen-year-old boy sat by Tobit's side. The sick man continued: "In the town of Ragae I depositeda small fortune some eight, ten years ago, before they plundered our homes and stole our property – " At the mention of the anti-Semite enemy Tobit fell into a fit of coughing, from anger and bitterness perhaps. Feeling tears well up in his eyes, Tobias held his father until the coughing slowed. "Now you mustn't expect too much, it's not a rich man's lump sum; but it's enough to see you through your studies, maybe even a bit more."

"No, Father, please; I gave up being a scholar some time ago. The money can go to feeding us – and Mother won't have to work so hard – "

"Be quiet. It is my wish for you to resume your studies. Do not let my misfortune become your future, son. You may be a simple farmer's son but I'm telling you, you could be so much more." He paused to draw breath. "Go out into the world, make a good living and save your mother from a life of hardship. But for now." His voice was growing softer, and Tobias had to lean closer. "Take out some of the money, enough to buy us a good, hearty meal for _Pessah._ We have not had a real celebration in so long. And your mother is filled with guilt every time for not being able to put nice food on the table for the festivity."

Tobias bowed his head. "You are right. I cannot even remember our last Passover save for the _matza _bread. And we have just run out of _matza._"

"Get some, then, on your way home."

The boy nodded determinedly and rose. "I shall leave first thing tomorrow morning, father."

"Oh, and son."

"Yes?"

"Last night a man came to me and introduced himself as a distant kinsman who has just returned from far abroad. He was saddened to find us in our current situation, and sorry he has nothing to offer. He did, however, offer to be your guide – most insistently – when I told him of my plan. His name is Azariah, and he will be waiting for you at the edge of the village."

"How will he know when to intercept me?"

"Oh, he said something about…having a way of knowing…" Tobit was drifting off now, carried away by the mercy of sleep. "Accept his company, Tobias. He seems very wise in the ways of the world… He will be a great help to you, I'm sure."

This is where the story begins. Now you have the premise; on to the actual tale!


	2. The Thief

**2: The Thief**

At the sight of his travelling companion Tobias was filled with doubt. This was no relative of theirs – all their kin was olive-skinned, dark-haired and not very tall. This towering stranger was fair, with hair so blond it was almost white, and light blue-green eyes unlike any he had ever seen. To top it off, he had a rather haughty expression and seemed not so much glad as impatiently relieved to see the boy.

"Shall we be off then?" said the man called Azariah.

Tobias shrugged. "Lead the way."

As they walked, Tobias felt one question after another building on the tip of his tongue and felt that he must ask them or suffer the burning pinpricks of curiosity. They left the village far behind and began an ascent up a gently sloping hill. He decided to begin with a harmless inquiry. "Which side of the family are you from?"

"Your uncle's cousin's cousin, twice removed."

"Really?"

A faint smile crossed the shapely mouth. "You doubt me, Tobias."

"Well, pardon my saying so, but you do seem to have arrived at a rather convenient time – just as my father was planning for me to set out on a journey."

"Why, he told me all about it a week before. Your journey _is_ the reason I have come."

Tobias felt irritated by his father's planning suddenly. "I wish he had told me what he had in mind. And I don't need a chaperone," he added, more sharply than he had meant to.

"So you know your way perfectly and have no need of guidance or protection."

"That is what I meant. Yes." The boy felt almost put down by Azariah's lack of reaction.

The strange man stopped in his tracks. "Very well then. Be on your way."

This was really something! Tobias tried not to look surprised. "That is it – you're giving up?"

"Well, what am I supposed to do: chase after you like a nursemaid after a baby? If you say you do not require a chaperone then I believe you."

"No you don't." Tobias retorted.

The tiniest flash of irritation crossed Azariah's face before smoothing into its implacable calm. "What does it matter if I don't? The journey is yours, young man. With or without me you are bent on going on; so go." And he turned and walked off.

Well! To think that his sympathetic distant relative was not so sympathetic after all! Tobias realized vaguely that he was being a prick, and if anything happened to him it would be his fault for chasing away his only companion; but it was too late: pride would not allow him to call Azariah back, and so he hoisted his pack and continued his journey.

There was a long way to the town of Ragae along the winding paths between the mountains; but Tobias had been on expeditions with his father before in earlier years, and he knew a shortcut through the forest that would hasten his journey and perhaps lessen the need for comradeship to fill the long boring stretches of road. Besides, it offered a pleasant scenic walk through the shade of trees and the occasional chirping of feathered creatures.

Of course, there was also the buzz of mosquitoes, but Tobias thought he could deal with it if it meant being away from that smug, all-knowing, see-if-I-care Azariah with the strange eyes.

Two hours later he realized he thought wrong. He was sweaty and miserable and covered in mosquito bites. The trees weren't offering as much shade as they should. And where was that cool, refreshing glade he should have stumbled upon an hour ago?

Something rustled behind him. Irritated and on edge, he turned around sharply and said, "Who's there?"

Another rustle, the sound of someone stumbling and then something dull brown and human-like spilled out of the bushes. It was a friar, pale-faced save for a red pimple on his small sharp nose.

"Brother. What are you doing in the middle of the forest?"

"Oh, I came to meditate in the quietude of nature, far from the bustle of men; but I thought I heard a large wild animal passing, and took what hiding I could. I suppose I am not as courageous as I thought," the friar confessed sheepishly. He looked rather frail and in need of protection, and Tobias offered it gallantly. "You look dehydrated. Would you like some water, food?"

"You would share your victuals with me? Ah, bless you, son."

They found a tree with wide boughs to sit under and eat. As he finished his morsel of bread the friar inquired, "What name may I call you, son?"

"Tobias. Son of Tobit."

"Tobias, is it? would you allow me to examine those insect bites? Most are probably harmless, but there are a few that look a little inflamed. Please, let me treat them as a humble gesture of thanks."

"Make yourself welcome, brother. The itch is driving me mad."

He unwound the upper part of his tunic and took off his shirt, and the friar felt around his shoulders and arms. "Dear me. There are one or two rather nasty ones here. I may have to prick them with a needle, to let out the poison. Oh don't worry – it will hurt no more than a tiny ant bite."

"Are you sure it is that bad?"

"Not now; but allow it to fester for a few more hours, and you could well be on your way to a more serious affliction. And I would not know how to cure that; my knowledge is limited to minor injuries."

"Very well – do get it over with then."

The point of the needle pierced his skin, burying deeper than it should and causing Tobias to give a startled cry. Seconds later his eyelids grew heavy as all sensation melted away. He felt drugged. No, he _was_ being drugged. Too late suspicion kicked in – he wanted to reach out and push the false monk away, but he couldn't – he was falling into darkness. Just before he lost consciousness, he felt the brush of wings and a tall shadow swooping down…then all was lost.


	3. A Minor Revelation

**3: A Minor Revelation**

Tobias awoke to a cool, biting sensation on his bare skin. He shivered, groaned, reached for his shirt – and realized the bite marks were faded, almost gone.

"Citronella leaves. They help soothe the sting, and the smell keeps the insects away," said a familiar unperturbed voice.

"What happened?" Tobias muttered.

"You were drugged by a thief who would have taken all your possessions if I had not stopped him," replied Azariah. He was carving a mortar and pestle out of wood.his hands worked amazingly fast. "Next time use your better judgment. Fools and their lives are soon parted."

Tobias' face burned from the truth of the statement. "Well, you shouldn't have abandoned me."

The blue-green eyes blazed briefly. "Is that your way of demonstrating gratitude?"

"No. that is my way of greeting a saviour who came a little too late."

Azariah actually slammed the piece of wood he was working on into the ground. "Any later and Tobit would not _have_ a son. And I did not 'abandon' you; you told me in no unclear terms that you did not require my presence."

"And that was enough to make you give up? Perhaps I was just testing you." He knew that he was pushing it somewhat; but Tobias was the sort of person who, once they start, do not know when to stop. "Perhaps you should have been more insistent."

Azariah whirled around and stared threateningly. For a moment the boy was actually afraid. The man was much taller than him, and had a hefty staff that could probably beat him senseless with a few casual blows.

"You," said Azariah, "are a real _brat._" Then he sat down again and continued carving his mortar, which was almost done. Tobias noted that he had not once raised his voice. Nor had he lifted a finger against the boy's petulant words. Tobias knew that his parents, uncles or aunts, or any of his older cousins would have landed a good slap on his face by now. He also knew that he would never have dared cross the line with any of them for that reason. You are no kinsman of mine, he thought. Just you wait; I shall discover your true identity eventually, and why you are hiding it from me.

A disturbing sound interrupted his thoughts. "Did you hear that?" he said worriedly. "Sounds like a wild cat."

"A lynx, probably. It will leave you be if you stay still." Azariah did not appear ruffled.

Preferring to obey his instincts, Tobias grabbed a branch and got into a tense defensive stance.

The tall blond man looked up. "I _said_ stay sti – "

A flash of gold and brown fur sprang hissing from out of nowhere, all claws and hunger-wet fangs. Shocked, Tobias dropped his branch and fumbled in vain for it. The cat closed in, preparing to pounce. With one bite to the jugular it would all be over. At wits' end, Tobias flung out his arms to protect his neck. His life was finished –

In one fluid motion Azariah threw himself in front of the boy, standing with arms outstretched and facing the snarling lynx. Tobias gasped and gave a small cry of amazement, almost forgetting the animal. He was looking at the silvery-white wings that had sprouted from Azariah's back.

The lynx prowled about, aggressive but confused, sensing something unusual about the man who stood in the way of his prey; something that was not quite human, and most probably threatening. He was not worth challenging. Growling deeply, the wild cat slunk away.

Turning back to the shell-shocked Tobias, wings gone, Azariah said mildly: "We should be on our way, should we not?"

They walked for a bit before Azariah spoke.

"There is no point in pretence anymore. Only a fool would think us related, anyway."

"You're an angel," said Tobias numbly. "Aren't you?"

"I am the Archangel Raphael. Your father prayed for someone to assist you in your journey, and I answered."

Tobias frowned. "So he did not trust me to take care of myself."

"Oh, I must say you've done a fine job so far."

The boy gaped. "Are you being sarcastic?"

"No more than you are being a pain in the neck."

For once, Tobias found himself outwitted. He fell silent.


	4. Arguments Over a Fish

**4: Arguments Over a Fish**

They came to the clearing Tobias had been looking for. "You would have found it sooner had you not gotten lost," Raphael deigned to inform him. It led to a river, wide and deep with a gentle current.

"Look! That is an unusual fish." Tobias pointed to a large silver one with a pale pink head and bulbous amber eyes. As if in response, the fish suddenly leapt out of the water and landed right at his feet.

"Ah! A Godsend," exclaimed Raphael delightedly.

Tobias turned to look at the Archangel with light dawning in his eyes. "You don't mean that, do you?"

"I prefer to save my sarcasm for more fitting situations. Yes, I meant it."

"But…why? I mean, the fish, me – what is the connection, what does it mean?"

"You will find out shortly." Raphael handed him a gutting knife. "Here, kill it."

"_What?"_

"Well, are you going to just let it suffocate to death? One should always show mercy."

"You mean we're going to eat it? why can't we just throw it back?"

Raphael grew impatient. "Do you think the Lord put that fish before you just for you to _throw it back?"_

Tobias tried to get a grip on the madly wriggling thing. It was a large animal, it would most likely take its own sweet time to die. "It's so slippery – I can't get a hold on it! Why don't _you_ kill it?"

"Because _you_ have to. I am only here to tell you what to do. Now _do it."_

Muttering something about pushy, unreasonable angels, Tobias found a fist-sized rock (also God-sent, no doubt) and managed to smash it down on the smooth head after many tries and more than a few curses. The writhing came to a shuddering halt.

"Good." Raphael nodded. "You know how to gut fish, don't you?"

"I'm a scholar, not a fisherman," Tobias snapped. That had been a most unpleasant experience for him, who had gladly let his mother or the butcher do all the slaughtering of chickens.

"I thought you gave up your studies."

"Whatever. My father intends for me to resume learning." Not that it's any of your business, he added silently.

Raphael had assumed his usual haughty, bored countenance. "Look, this is getting nowhere. The fish is not going to lie there and gut itself. Why can't you trust me?"

"It's not that I don't trust you. I just killed the thing, I'm not opening it up as well."

"Oh. Well, then its death will have been in vain, won't it?" the angel said, his scornful look implying that Tobias was being squeamish.

"Can't you wipe that expression of your face and treat me with some respect?"

"Respect is _earned,_ child."

"Don't call me ch – Oi!" Raphael had thrown the knife at him, and he fumbled catching it, nearly cutting himself.

"You want to help your father, don't you?"

"Of course I do. What has that to do with…_this?"_

"You'll see. Now cut down its belly – like this, here, I'll show you."

Frowning, Tobias stuck the tip of the blade down the silver belly and began to slice.

"That's it – no, go straight. You're veering to the left.

"Like this, then?"

"Straight down, yes – look, you're hesitating. Just _do it."_

"What is the point of this again?"

The Archangel made a long sound of exasperation. "I'm sorry you didn't inherit Tobit's faith in God, but why can't you just listen for a second!"

"Does God mean for us to stumble through life blindly relying on His orders?"

"God means for us to make use of opportunities that come our way. Which is what I've been telling you for the past twenty minutes!"

Tobias took a deep breath and tried not to grit his teeth. "How exactly," he asked, "will the fish help my father?"

"I am about to show you. I could show you faster if you would slice the damned fish!"

Tobias gasped. "You swore!"

Raphael rolled his beautiful eyes. "Any saint would after a few hours around you."

"Yes, but you're an _angel."_

"An angel who is beginning to regret answering a blind man's prayer!"

"Well, if you regret helping me, then don't! leave the way you did the first time!"

"Fine!" They glared heatedly at each other, then said simultaneously:

"To hell with you!"

There was silence for a long moment, punctuated only by the babbling rover and the whistle of insects and distant gibbons.

"I am a hopeless son," Tobias finally said, dejectedly. "I feel as if I have spat upon my father's prayer. And I can't even gut a fish properly."

Raphael sat with his knees to his chest. "Actually, you're a good son – filial, fiercely loving. Many a time Tobit has praised you while talking to the Lord. Your devotion to this mission, small as it may be, is so strong that sometimes it blinds you to the things that might help you. You are stubbornly independent; which is why you refused my assistance time after time." He shrugged. "That, and a good dose of stupidity."

Tobias grinned. "Thank you."

"Well. It is a rash, fleeting stupidity that passes with age."

Pulling the big fish close, Tobias gripped the knife, laid it upon the gleaming breast and mustered his courage. He was, he admitted to himself, rather squeamish.

"You can do it, Tobias."

The boy nodded and dug the blade in. it went smoothly in a straight line, and the stomach split open cleanly. He was surprised that the blood, freshly red as it was, did not spatter out.

A smile crossed the angel's face, one that was neither mocking nor condescending. "Couldn't have done it better myself."

Tobias tried not to let the praise go to his head, and failed miserably. It was a small achievement of sorts after all. "Are we going to cook it?"

"Sure, otherwise it would go to waste. But feeding us was not the only purpose of its coming." He pointed to the gallbladder. "Cut that out – cleanly, don't damage it. The gall will remove blindness when applied onto the cornea."

"The fish's gall can cure my father?" Tobias felt awed, then relieved and grateful for knowing this. "This – this was what you were – "

"Trying to tell you all along."

The boy grinned. "Well, goodness, you didn't have to be so vague!"

"It's just the way we operate. We tend to take the faith of mortals for granted in return for helping them. But you are different, apparently."'

"Is that good or bad?"

A raised eyebrow was the only reply. "Who am I to say? You will find that out for yourself eventually."

Tobias tucked the gallbladder carefully into an oilskin pouch. They cleaned and cooked the fish, after some argument about who would cook and who would clean – Raphael scoffed that he was sent to earth to be a guide, not scale fish; while Tobias shot back that cooking itself was hardly a task, when all that was required was to stick the bloody thing on a spit and let it roast. After a satisfying meal they walked on to the end of the forest, bathed in the gold of the evening light. From a distance they could glimpse the outskirts that would lead to the town.

"Did my father mention, by the way, how he became blind?"

"No. Tell me."

"Well, he was sleeping outside the house of a man he had just performed the Jewish death rites for. It is custom to not be near the body after that; but it was late, and Father decided he would catch a few hours of sleep before leaving. He went outside to lie on the ground. It so happened that just before he closed his eyes, a couple of birds flew by – and one of them, well…let's just say the last thing he saw was droppings falling from the sky and into his – eyes."

There was an incredulous stretch of silence. Raphael's lips twitched. Then, incredibly, the Archangel burst into wild laughter, almost falling to the ground.

Tobias was furious (or tried to be). "It is _not _funny!"

The musical peals came to a slow difficult halt. "Pardon me; but I have not laughed in a long time. And besides, now that we have a cure, what do you care whether or not I find it amusing?"

"Yes – but – well. I suppose you are right."

"I'm sorry, what was that again?"

A grin twisted Tobias' mouth, which he disguised with a weak scowl. "Don't make me repeat that!"

"You're right. Gems like that should only come once in a million times."

And in congenial (if occasionally quarrelsome) companionship, they walked on towards the town of Ragae.


End file.
